Because You Made Me Remember
by cejaycee
Summary: Elizabeth Webber gets positive feedback from her first art showing, giving her the confidence to start chasing her dreams again.  One of her biggest dreams?  Having her, Lucky and the boys become a family again.  Rated "M" for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Because You Made Me Remember

Chapter One

Elizabeth Webber was faintly listening to the conversations going on around her as she milled through the crowd, barely sipping at the champagne flute in her hand. Most of the snippets she caught were complementary though, and that made her smile.

"Marvelous use of color!"

"She has an extraordinary eye..."

"I love the energy emanating from this one."

"You can tell she's an extremely passionate woman!"

"I wonder if she plans to sell any of her work?" This question she answered aloud to the couple asking. "All of my work, except for one special painting, is for sale. You'll need to speak to my agent, Muriel if you're interested in purchasing." She gestured in the direction of Muriel Vanetti, her manager/agent before walking on. Her body was buzzing and she felt almost as if she was floating. She had done it! Her very own art showing, finally. A dream in the making since her teenage years, and she finally made it happen. It almost still felt like a dream, she realized as she looked around the gallery, watching the art patrons who were here to view her work. To be so well received on top of completing months of concerted effort was a bonus, icing on the cake.

Initially, she had been so nervous when Muriel suggested the show that her first thought was to say no. She had faith in her work, but that faith was limited. **She **loved each painting almost as much as she loved her boys, but how would the public see her work? Did she really want to open herself up to that kind of scrutiny? Muriel was insistent, however, and Elizabeth acquiesced. As usual, Muriel was right. "Sink or swim, Eliz. How will you know how truly great you are if you never put yourself out there? Stop playing it safe, and go for it." She wasn't sure where this show was leading her but she was gaining confidence in the positive direction by the day.

"You're a triumph, Lizzie." Elizabeth turned from her musings to face her brother Steve and her best friend Robin, the only two friends she had the courage to invite.

"Thanks, Steve. I'm starting to get that impression, too. I think they really like what they see." Robin added, "I like what I see, too. You look great-radiant. That color green on you is very flattering. How do you feel?"

"It's kind of hard to describe," she responded. "I feel like I'm floating, yet I've never felt more grounded in my life. I'm so glad Muriel talked me into it."

"Muriel just gave you the push you needed," said Steve, "but I think eventually you would have gotten here on your own. All you needed was confidence in your abilities, and I'm thinking after tonight that you'll never doubt yourself again."

She laughed, tossing her head back as she turned the champagne flute in toward her heart. "You may be on to something! I certainly feel more accomplished than I have in a long time." Muriel walked up to the group, beaming widely. "I just want you to know that we've sold five of your paintings so far! There was almost a bidding war for 'Remembrance Bouquet' before it went for eight hundred and seventy dollars."

"Is that good?"

"For a first showing? I'd say so! Stick with me, Webber. I'm putting you on the map!" The threesome laughed as Muriel spun away from them toward more potential customers. "Is she always like that?" asked Robin. "Pretty much," Elizabeth responded. "She's a bundle of energy, that's for sure. She's been a great manager and she's worked tirelessly on my behalf. I'm extremely grateful to her." "So," Steve wondered, "are we about to lose our best head nurse to the world of art?" Elizabeth smiled a mysterious smile. "I'm going to have to plead the fifth on that one, for now."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The On Time delivery driver was returning Lucky Spencer's suspicious frown with an engaging grin. "Look, bro, I only deliver, I don't send." Lucky's frown deepened. "It's just that I wasn't expecting anything from anyone. And it doesn't say who sent it? Is there an international posting by chance? My mom might have sent it from France..."

"Are you refusing it?" the driver asked, beginning to get impatient.

"No, sorry. Of course not. And I know you're busy. Sorry," he said again as he reached for the computer to sign his name.

"Hope it's not a bomb, bro! Have a good one," the driver laughed as he walked down the hall toward the elevator.

"Yeah, thanks. You, too," Lucky responded sarcastically as he dragged the thin box into his living room. It was flat, but not heavy enough to be a flat-screen tv, although the dimensions were about right... But what was it, and who on earth sent it? He reached into his pocket for his Swiss Army knife and began cutting the box open. It did say "Fragile" on it, so he tried to be careful as he cut the sides of the box. Finally being able to peer inside, he made out what appeared to be a frame. "A picture frame? A picture? What the hell?" He gripped the Styrofoam edges and pulled it slowly out of its carton. When he had fully removed what seemed to be a picture of some kind, he turned it over, and his heart dropped into his stomach. "Oh my God. Oh, wow." It was the boxcar. A beautiful, colorful, seemingly three-dimensional rendition of the boxcar in which he spent so much of that one special summer. He tipped the box over and an envelope fell out onto the floor. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the gold envelope, opening it and sliding the plain gold card with the gold and light beige ribbon out so he could read the inscription written on it. It simply said, "Because it made me think of you." Nothing else. He smiled as he recognized the handwriting, but even without the card, he knew the painter's hand. Elizabeth. No one else had that form and style. "I thought she was great before, but I was so off. This is matchless, untouchable." He reverently placed the painting entitled "Simpler Times" on the couch, captivated by the depiction itself and the memories that came with it. "She even added the paintings that she painted on the original walls of the boxcar. Wow." His heart clutched again as he realized that the effort and care that went into this work went beyond the typical "gift from a friend." There was love involved here. After all this time, and everything they had been through. Still. Amazing.

He let his mind get lost in that summer. Finding the boxcar and realizing that it suited him perfectly. Watching Elizabeth's face light up as she scanned the walls, deciding what she would paint and where. Paint fights. Watching her create by candlelight. The first time she fell asleep in his arms. The guitar. The song he wrote because of her. That first kiss. He shook his head as he unconsciously, softly touched his lips. That first sweet, innocent kiss. Lucky walked across the room and was holding one of his guitars before he even realized it. He sat down on the lounge chair, absentmindedly strumming the strings. A chord came to his mind unbidden, and he closed his eyes as he played. He leaned his head to the side, and as if he had written it yesterday, the words came rushing back, and he began to sing. "As you kneel beside your bed tonight, keep a little prayer for me in sight. Know that I will be there when you call. Know that I will catch you when you might fall. Elizabeth... Go to sleep. I wanna watch you breathe. I wanna feel God's peace. All I want is this..." A sudden noise jerked him out of his reverie, and he opened his eyes to see Cam standing in front of him, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "I'm sorry, Buddy-did my guitar wake you up?" he asked his son. "A little bit," Cam responded. "What was that song?"

"That, son, was a song I wrote a long time ago for your mommy."

"I liked it."

"Really? Thank you. As I recall, your mommy liked it, too." He reached down and scooped Cam into his arms, pretending to almost drop him, making Cam giggle. "Wow! You're getting huge! Next week you'll be able to carry me!" he teased. "Nuh uh," Cam said, laying his head on his father's shoulder. Lucky cuddled Cam for a moment, briefly resting his head on his son's before taking him back into his room to lay beside his brother. After he tucked Cam back into bed, he asked, "You do know that I love you, don't you, Cam?" "Yeah, I know," Cam answered as he drifted back to sleep. Lucky stood there, gazing at his two boys as they slept. His mind went back to the painting of the boxcar. Almost everything good in his life, almost everything he had worth having came as a direct result of that special summer.


End file.
